


The Seven Seas Alpha

by corinnemaree



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:52:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinnemaree/pseuds/corinnemaree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is a recently marooned pirate Captain of his beloved ship Alpha. Stiles is a recently discharged soldier of Beacon Bay.<br/>They get in a sword fight and Derek pulls a gun. Stiles ends up rebelling to help Derek find his ship and join him in piracy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Seven Seas Alpha

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Destiel Au Series: Pirates](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/73808) by samkatdiz. 



> THIS WORK WAS MADE FOR MY FRIENDS BIRTHDAY WITH THE PROMPT FROM A DESTIEL FANART MADE BY 'samkatdiz' ON TUMBLR (Link: http://samkatdiz.tumblr.com/post/53183612322/destiel-au-series-pirates-hq-dean-is-a)  
> I DID NOT COME UP WITH THE IDEA, MERELY ALTERED IT TO FIT THE PREFERENCE FOR A PRESENT. FULL CREDIT FOR THE IDEA AND THE ART WORK GOES TO 'samkatdiz'. (P.s. I love the art and the idea, super fun to work with. Happy Birthday Kiana)

Derek Hale cursed the sand that was firmly ingrade in his boots. He had been marooned on the island of….he forgot the name of the damn island. It had been 4 days and he had already forgotten the name of the island he was going to die on.

 

There was something you should know about Derek. He was the pirate Captain of the Alpha, an incredible ship that sailed the seven seas, and struck fear into everyone who saw its sails. But he was rude, arrogant and often at times behind reason. Hence why he was marooned. His crew couldn’t stand him anymore.

 

Now he was stuck on an island that he was claiming as his own. He was trying as much as he could to survive but with a blunt sword it was hard to scavenge for food. He was currently searching for something that would quench his thirst that was deep and eager for relief. He climbed over the grassy hill that snaked its way into the sand and created its new landscape. Derek felt like he knew the exterior of the island like the back of his hand at this point, it was the interior that he had yet to explore. His reasoning was one where he thought his crew would be back for him, but 2 days would have been enough punishment for any man. 4 days was a death sentence.

 

The hill was steep, and Derek’s aching feet arched just trying to gain some grip on the roots of the grass. Once he reached the top, he had to lean on his knees in an attempt to regain his breath. He began to strip off his heavy maroon leather overcoat that reached just below his knee, and shrugged it onto the grassy footing beneath him. He felt a wave of fresh air hit him and he could finally breathe. The cool wind from the sea breathed into his pores and Derek took them in with stride, feeling a surge of energy pass through him. His shirt seemed to flail in the breeze and it cooled down his blistering and aching skin from the hot beating sun above. His dark black vest that he had stolen from a royal official weighed more than what Derek had thought. He wiped his brow in an effort to drain the sweat from his forehead, and scanned his new line of vision. Below him he saw what he craved. Fresh water.

 

Derek let out a sigh of relief. The supply of fresh water came from a stream that could run through the inner workings of the island, and as Derek inspected the surroundings, he saw the lush grass come to life and bound upwards into flowers and trees that hid the water in arches. The trees towered, and as their branches began to meet, they tangled together, and grew around one another. Derek gathered his things and bound for the water, his broadsword and pistol rattling on his hip as he ran towards the water.

 

He got to the waters edge, collapsing to his knees and scooping water into his collected palms. He slurped the cool water into his mouth and he gasps, feeling the water trail down his throat and saturate his mouth in much needed satisfaction. He rolled up his sleeves, covering his arms in some liquid relief. His arms themselves were covered in tattoos, maps of places he had visited, navigated and the endless treasures he had acquired in each location. They flowed up his arms and covered most of his back. He was starting to wonder where else he could fit tattoos without ruining his chest. He looked at his reflection, marvelling at the beard he was slowly growing along his jaw. He scooped more water into his hands, but before he could, he could hear the faint sound of water splashing rapidly. Derek turned slowly, seeing a soaring blue jacket and Derek’s heart pounded against his chest.

 

The soldier hadn’t noticed Derek, but Derek was now inspecting him. He was young, with hair that was a mess, like he had been in a fight. His jacket was torn, made with a clean blade by the straightness of the tear. The attack had drawn blood and now the young soldier was splashing water onto his wound, wincing in the process. Derek slowly drew his blade, and made his way to the man. The man was so distracted by his wound that he didn’t notice Derek creep up on him. Derek touched the blade to the man’s chin and the man froze.

“Be careful, boy, it may not be as sharp as one of your blades, but I can do a lot of damage with it,” Derek warned. The man stood slowly, his hands raised as Derek stepped away slightly.

“Who are you?” He asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“What are you doing on this island?” Derek asked, avoiding his question, but the man drew his rapier. Derek hit the blade aside in a quick flick of his wrist, and dug his feet into the ground. It was odd fighting on land, as most of his battles were done aboard his ship or someone elses.  The man held his blade firmly, and struck again quickly. Derek was half taken back, but had more pressing matters at hand than to admire his attackers fighting ability. Derek pushed off the man, and curved his blade to strike towards the man’s stomach, the man blocked it, his palm resting on his blade. Derek thought it was risky to do so at any time, but the man used his body force and pushed Derek’s blade out of his hand. The man removed his hand and held it tightly to itself. Derek wrenched his pistol from his belt and pointed it at the man. The man stopped stunned, and Derek raised a brow. As though the man knew what Derek meant by the inquisitive look, he dropped his blade and kicked it over to Derek.

“Do you plan on using that?” The man asked, and Derek’s brow knitted.

“No, I never planned on using the gun aimed straight at your face,” Derek said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the man. “Of course I plan on using it, you idiot. What are you doing on this island?” Derek asked, but his words seemed to weigh down on the man’s spirit. His jaw tightened, and his posture relaxed, as though Derek’s words drained the man more than the fight.

“I was discharged for questioning my superior,” He said, his voice broken and his eyes sadder than Derek had seen a man’s eyes.

“What about?” Derek said, his pushed his wrist forward, and shaking his hand.

“Killing an innocent man,” The man’s voice angry, and his brow began to shake with an uneasiness to his words.

“I didn’t know a soldier to have such a soul,” Derek mocked, and the man stopped being angry with himself, and started to be angry with Derek.

“I should say that about you, pirate!” The man now seemed the likes of a boy, and Derek cocked the gun in his hand. The boy gulped and Derek raised a brow, as though to say ‘don’t test me’.

“Who were you in the fleet? A lowly stowaway, or a corporal that commanded men to their deaths for the sake of our king?” Derek smiled to himself, the thought of a stowaway wearing a jacket wearing such a high authority-like jacket.

“I was a Lieutenant. I am Stiles Stilinski, if you would were to ask at any time during this kinship,” He said, kneeling back down to the edge of the stream. He dropped his hands into the water and poured some down the back of his neck and once more against his side.

“I find no kinship with you, Stiles. I am Derek Hale, though I suspect most officers know of my name by now.” Derek shook his pistol twice before putting it back onto his belt. He kicked up his blade and slide it inside its casing. Derek kicked up Stiles’ blade and handed it over to Stiles. Stiles looked up at Derek and gave a quizzical look, as though he was shocked that Derek would hand over the blade at all. Stiles took it and placed it back onto his hip.

“Stories and fables. Most officers think you are a story to frighten us all,” Stiles laughed, taking off his blue military jacket. He seemed to look at it with fond memories that soon turned sickening as he threw the heavy fabric into the stream.

“You should be frightened.” Derek said bending down next to Stiles and slurping water into his mouth.

“I see a pirate captain abandoned by his crew. There is nothing frightening about you, unless you counted the odor.” Stiles said, and Derek splashed water up at him. Stiles chuckled to himself.

“How many days?” Derek asked, looking at the bleeding wound. It was fresh, with no blood seeming to escape itself opening. Derek guessed it was just painful.

“Dropped off last night. I slept on the south side of the island in some shrubs I gathered together. And yourself?” He said, pulling up his shirt and took the fabrics from his torso. He tore his thin linen shirt to make a bandage for himself.

“Four days.” Derek said and began to help Stiles. The boy was clumsy and it was a miracle he survived the night. Derek pulled the bandage around the part of Stiles’ torso that was injured and made it tight enough to keep the wound from festering.

“I’d ask why, but I think I might be shot if I asked.” Stiles said, and Derek couldn’t help but chuckle. It was hard to find someone with a sense of humour in trying times. “Any good location to find food?” Stiles asked, his stomach seeming to ask the same question.

“North shore. Fish swim along the shoreline,” Derek said helping Stiles up from the ground.

 

Stiles was an annoyance at times, as though he couldn’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth. Derek had put up with it for several days, and he wondered how much longer he would have to spend with the imbecile. But in the back of his mind, he had a fondness for Stiles. He may have been annoying, but he also brought great joy in such a depressing time for Derek.

“Derek?” Stiles asked by the shore. Derek rolled his eyes, thinking Stiles had caught his sword in his shirt once again whilst trying to fish. Derek emerged from their makeshift hut and saw two overbearing ships close by. They were trailing past the island, and one would most likely dock depending on how bad their supply was. But the two boats had met at the side, and Derek’s jaw tightened as he saw which ships they were.

“Who are they?” Stiles asked.

“My crew, the bunch of cowards are being overtaken my your old comrades.” Derek snarled. His ship was being raided by Stiles’ old command and his ship and crew would pay dearly for not having a quick thinking captain like Derek.

“Should we help?” Stiles asked, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. Derek scoffed and kicked the sand underneath his feet.

“You soldiers are all the same. Wanting to rescue everyone. Life is a game, boy, you can’t win them all,” Derek said simply, but as he felt a cold metal touch the base of his throat, he could understand Stiles’ frustration on the matter. “What do you plan to do with that?” Derek asked, turning to Stiles, his face angry with Derek as he held the blade steady in his hand.

“Much more than what you can do with a blade so blunt as yours,” Stiles said, but lowered his blade. He stepped towards Derek, and his brow was deep and angry. “We need to help them, and maybe your vessel could be yours once more,” Stiles said, and Derek touched a finger to his chin, his arms crossing as he thought to himself.

“You have a point, Stilinski,” Derek said, patting Stiles’ back hard, and forced the boy to fall to the sand. “But I must ask you, are you ready for a life of piracy?” Derek asked, and looked down at Stiles as he rolled over in the sand. He began to dust himself off and looked up at Derek.

“If I must,” He sighed. Derek extended a hand to Stiles, and he gripped on tightly. Derek pulled Stiles up and held both of his shoulders in his hands.

“You are a pirate, boy, now lets get my ship back.” Derek said, a smirk spreading on his face.


End file.
